The Creature of Los Santos


I'm just this guy, you know?

To expand on that, I am also the following...

- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)

- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch

- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes

- Always too hard on myself

Tonight will be the last night that the village of Los Santos sits by and lets the devil of the forest take anymore of our livestock.

We banded together against the creature.

What creature? We didn't know. Something was out there though. Something vicious. Something unforgiving. Something out to disrupt our way of life.

One thing we knew, though, was that we couldn't allow this creature, whatever it was, to terrorize us.

We needed to stand strong against whatever was out there or risk subverting our way of life completely to the terrors of the unknown.

We were armed with not much more than torches and pitchforks but it was all we had and we only knew that we had to fight, no matter the cost or the odds.

We stood at the edge of the forest, armed with fire and little more than pointy sticks that we hoped would drive off whatever devil sent creature lurked in the woods beyond our town.

The village members present let out a collective roar at everything that moved in the brush.

But would we be enough?


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